Part 13 (2/2)
There are many fountain-heads of slavery in Africa. The region of the interior, which gives birth to the head-waters of the s.h.i.+re river, is one of the chief of these. Here lies the great lake Nya.s.sa, which was discovered and partly explored by Dr Livingstone, and hence flows a perennial stream of traffic to Kilwa, on the coast--which traffic, at the present time, consists almost exclusively of the two kinds of ivory, white and black, the former (elephants' tusks) being carried by the latter (slaves), by which means the slave-trade is rendered more profitable.
Towards this populous and fertile region, then, our adventurers directed their course, when they turned out of the great river Zambesi and began to ascend the s.h.i.+re.
And here, at the very outset of this part of the journey, they met with a Portuguese settler, who did more to open their eyes to the blighting and withering influence of slavery on the land and on its people than anything they had yet seen.
Towards the afternoon of the first day on the s.h.i.+re, they landed near the encampment of the settler referred to, who turned out to be a gentleman of a Portuguese town on the Zambesi.
Harold found, to his delight, that he could speak English fluently, and was, moreover, an exceedingly agreeable and well-informed man. He was out at the time on a hunting expedition, attended by a party of slaves.
Harold spent the evening in very pleasant intercourse with Senhor Gamba, and at a later hour than usual returned to his camp, where he entertained Disco with an account of his new acquaintance.
While thus engaged, he was startled by the most appalling shrieks, which proceeded from the neighbouring encampment. Under the impression that something was wrong, both he and Disco leaped up and ran towards it.
There, to his amazement and horror, Harold beheld his agreeable friend Senhor Gamba thras.h.i.+ng a young slave unmercifully with a whip of the most formidable character. Only a few lashes from it had been given when Harold ran up, but these were so powerful that the unhappy victim dropped down in a state of insensibility just as he reached the spot.
The Portuguese ”gentleman” turned away from the prostrate slave with a scowl, but betrayed a slight touch of confusion on meeting the gaze of Harold Seadrift.
”Senhor!” exclaimed the latter sternly, with mingled remonstrance and rebuke in his tone, ”how _can_ you be so cruel? What has the boy done to merit such inhuman chastis.e.m.e.nt?”
”He has neglected my orders,” answered the Portuguese, as though he resented the tone in which Harold spoke.
”But surely, surely,” said Harold, ”the punishment is far beyond the offence. I can scarcely believe the evidence of my own eyes and ears when they tell me that _you_ have been guilty of this.”
”Come,” returned Senhor Gamba, softening into a smile, ”you English cannot understand our case in this land. Because you do not keep slaves, you take the philanthropic, the religious view of the question.
We who do keep slaves have a totally different experience. You cannot understand, you cannot sympathise with us.”
”No, truly, we can _not_ understand you,” said Harold earnestly, ”and G.o.d forbid that we should ever sympathise with you in this matter. We detest the gross injustice of slavery, and we abhor the fearful cruelties connected with it.”
”That is because, as I said, you are not in our position,” rejoined the Senhor, with a shrug of his shoulders. ”It is easy for you to take the philanthropic view, which, however, I admit to be the best, for in the eyes of G.o.d all men are equal, and though the African be a degraded man, I know enough of him to be sure that he can be raised by kindness and religion into a position not very inferior to our own; but we who keep slaves cannot help ourselves we _must_ act as we do.”
”Why so?--is cruelty a necessity?” asked Harold.
”Yes, it is,” replied the Senhor decidedly.
”Then the abolition of slavery is a needcessity too,” growled Disco, who had hitherto looked on and listened in silent wonder, debating with himself as to the propriety of giving Senhor Gamba, then and there, a sound thras.h.i.+ng with his own whip!
”You see,” continued the Portuguese, paying no attention to Disco's growl,--”You see, in order to live out here I must have slaves, and in order to keep slaves I must have a whip. My whip is no worse than any other whip that I know of. I don't justify it as right, I simply defend it as necessary. _Wherever slavery exists, discipline must of necessity be brutal_. If you keep slaves, and mean that they shall give you the labour of their bodies, and of their minds also, in so far as you permit them to have minds, you must degrade them by the whip and by all other means at your disposal until, like dogs, they become the unhesitating servants of your will, no matter what that will may be, and live for your pleasure only. It will never pay me to adopt your philanthropic, your religious views. I am here. I _must_ be here. What am I to do?
Starve? No, not if I can help it. I do as others do--keep slaves and act as the master of slaves. I must use the whip. Perhaps you won't believe me,” continued Senhor Gamba, with a sad smile, ”but I speak truth when I say that I was tender-hearted when I first came to this country, for I had been well nurtured in Lisbon; but that soon pa.s.sed away--it could not last. I was the laughing-stock of my companions.
Just to explain my position, I will tell you a circ.u.mstance which happened soon after I came here. The Governor invited me to a party of pleasure. The party consisted of himself, his daughters, some officers, and others. We were to go in boats to a favourite island resort, several miles off. I took one of my slaves with me, a lad that I kept about my person. As we were going along, this lad fell into the river.
He could not swim, and the tide was carrying him fast away to death.
Dressed as I was, in full uniform, I plunged in after him and saved him.
The wish alone to save the boy's life prompted me to risk my own. And for this I became the jest of the party; even the ladies t.i.ttered at my folly. Next evening the Governor had a large dinner-party. I was there. Having caught cold, I coughed slightly; this drew attention to me. Remarks were made, and the Governor alluded in scoffing terms to my exploit, which created much mirth. `Were you drunk?' said one. `Had you lost your senses, to risk your life for a brute of a negro?' said another. `Rather than spoil my uniform, I would have knocked him on the head with a pole,' said a third; and it was a long time before what they termed my folly was forgotten or forgiven. You think I am worse than others. I am not; but I do not condescend to their hypocrisy. What I am now, I have been made by this country and its a.s.sociates.” [These words are not fict.i.tious. The remarks of Senhor Gamba were actually spoken by a Portuguese slave-owner, and will be found in _The Story of the Universities' Mission to Central Africa_, pages 64-5-6.]
Senhor Gamba said this with the air of one who thinks that he has nearly, if not quite, justified himself. ”I am no worse than others,”
is an excuse for evil conduct, not altogether unknown in more highly favoured lands, and is often followed by the illogical conclusion, ”therefore I am not to blame,” but although Harold felt pity for his agreeable chance acquaintance, he could not admit that this explanation excused him, nor could he get over the shock which his feelings had sustained; it was, therefore, with comparatively little regret that he bade him adieu on the following morning, and pursued his onward way.
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